The Nutella incident
by dalmatian jasper
Summary: Ja'far wakes up and goes down to his kitchen only to find a purple haired buffoon bleeding out one the floor. Eating Nutella. Not bothering to patch up the stab wound. Who is this man? And how did he get in here? Why is his hair purple? Is Nutella really more important than his bloody shoulder?


Ja'far blames his insomnia for this predicament. Currently he was sat in his kitchen patching up some stranger, who'd somehow found his way into Ja'far's apartment. When Ja'far had found the guy, he was sat on the floor, leaning against the table, eating Nutella. But Ja'far doesn't eat Nutella, so he had no clue where he'd got it from or why he had it. So this guy was just sat there eating Nutella straight out of the jar, with a wounded shoulder, looked up at Ja'far when he comes down from yet another sleepless night to get a cup of coffee.

"I-I can explain..." The man mumbles. While Ja'far just gives him a deadpan stare. This man, with his long purple- yes that right purple, and an obnoxious shade at that- hair. I mean honestly why did he dye it purple? The albino probably couldn't say anything considering his naturally white hair, but that wasn't exactly a choice. But that's asides the point, this man had some how broken into his apartment, sat in his kitchen, eating Nutella he fabricated from **somewhere**, and all he had to say was 'I can explain'. Honestly.

"I highly doubt that." Ja'far continues to make his coffee, if he was going to deal with whatever's happenings he'll need it.

"Your probably right..." the man paused for a moment "...I know I shouldn't be asking for your help considering, well you know, this. But do you have a first aide kit?"

"Yes, just... give me a second." Ja'far sorted through a few of the cabinets, until he found it. He pulled out one of the chairs and sat in the one next to it, opening the first aid kit. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"Ah, thank you, I mean I can do it myself but... thank you." The mans golden eyes rested on Ja'far for a moment before he made a move to sit down. Ja'far began patching up the stab wound on the mans shoulder. Only after he sat down, taking the jar and tea spoon with him. Was that his tea spoon? How did he even get this? How the hell did he break into my house? Why does he have Nutella? Who is he? Why did he choose purple of all colours?

"You're oddly good at this, you work at a hospital or something?" The man flinched as Ja'far disinfected the cut.

"No, I've just had a lot of practice."

"Well that's... unnerving," He let out an nervous laugh, as if to lighten the mood.

"What's your name anyway?"

"... Sinbad, and who might you be?"

"I'm not telling the man who broke into my house my name, especially since that's clearly an alias." Ja'far huffed, at least one of his questions have been answered.

"Well I guess that's fair, but I'm only giving you an alias because I don't want you filing a police report. I have purple hair! They'd find me in no time!"

"Then why the fuck did you dye it in the first place? And why **that** shade of purple?"

"I liked it and want to keep it this way," huffing and turning around the newly dubbed "Sinbad's" was almost all bandaged up. Ja'far probably should have called the police, and he probably shouldn't be helping this... odd man. But calling the police might cause more trouble for him if they began investigating. So he might as well help "Sinbad", even if it's against his better judgement. "You know, I really don't want to be judged by the guy with bleached hair."

"I didn't bleach it you fucking idiot!" How many brain cells did this "Sinbad" have exactly? "I'm an albino, God, I envy everyone you haven't met."

It seems "Sinbad" may have pissed him off a bit at that statement. "Sorry I didn't realise."

"Oh really now, the white hair and pale skin didn't give it away?" His words were dripping with sarcasm.

"W-well you have green eyes! And like I said you _could_ have bleached it."

"My eyes are green because I just don't have enough melanin to pigment my skin and hair, but enough for my eyes."

Oh God "Sinbad" hated science, what the fuck was this man talking about? What's melanin? Probably best not to ask, he'll only be called an idiot again.

"Common sense tells you that if you're going to commit crimes, you need to be as inconspicuous as possible, if you can help it." Honestly was this man an idiot? "I mean common sense also tells you it's stupid to bring Nutella with you when you're breaking into someone's house, but that's a whole other topic."

This seemed to annoy "Sinbad", "Alright listen, I wasn't intending to break into your house. I got into a fight with some guy, he stabbed me in the shoulder and I ran. This was the closest place, and the window was open. I'd just been picking up some shopping I forgot about, and that happened to include Nutella. I thought I'd wait out here for a minute then go to the hospital, and I decided to have a snack. So tell me Mr no name, what's so wrong in that!" "Sinbad " looked exasperated.

How could he forget the window. "Then why didn't you call the police? And you could give me your real name considering you did nothing directly wrong."

"Well I did still break in, and I'm borrowing your spoon..." it seemed like the concept of "Sinbad" borrowing the spoon as weighing much heavier on his continence, than you know... breaking and entering.

"I guess."

The room was quiet for a minute, Ja'far returned to first aid kit to its rightful place, and "Sinbad sat awkwardly.

He didn't really know what he was supposed to do. This man had just helped him after he was found breaking in. Albeit something seemed a little...off. The guy just felt kind of creepy, the way he was so oddly good at taking care of injuries; despite not working I the medical industry. The way he talked about committing crimes like he had experienced. But, Sinbad- he thinks he might keep that name- is not one to judge on first impressions. He knows nothing about the guy, and the albino had just helped him. If he was a psychopath, what would be benefit from that?

Sinbad thought it was about time to beak the silence ,and maybe have some of his own questions answered. "Why didn't you call the police any way, I know I would've."

"It would probably cause more problems for me than you." Ja'far shouldn't be telling him this.

"O-oh." It was cemented in his mind now. This guy is definitely a serial killer of something. He has to get out of here now. He's not going to be this guys next victim. The panic was evident on his face, cold beads of sweat dripped to his chin before falling off his face. But why help me if you're planning to kill me? This didn't make sense. But what if he's just being lured into a full sense of security? What if he's just a nice guy who's a bit creepy, may have preformed some felines, but wants to move away from all that?

"Stop panicking so much. I'm not going to kill you." The monotone voice brought Sinbad back down to Earth. But that could still be a lie. "Honestly do you really think I'm going to waste my time helping you, if you're just going to end up dead in the end?"

"No, I guess." It was a mumbles reply, but a reply no less. His argument made sense but Sinbad was still sceptical.

"It doesn't really matter anymore tho, because I've finished." Ja'far sighed and got up from his seat. He stood up gesturing for Sinbad to do so as well. "You can go now, and pretend this never happened. But you should still probably go to the hospital, I'm not a professional."

"R-right. Well thanks for everything, I'll just take my Nutella and leave." Sinbad began picking up his stuff getting ready to get out of this place. And preferably home, he wasn't to keen on hospitals ;but understood they were necessary.

He was lead to the front door by the man. As he was walking through the living room, he took in his surroundings. It was normal to say the least. A coffee table in the middle held some scattered papers, letters, a knife and a small suspicious package. It took Sinbad a minute to register the fact the package might not be the most suspicious item on that table. When he did start thinking about it though... at least there's not blood on it?

They got to the door and Sinbad thanked the man- who was either a psychopath or just really unintentionally creepy- one again, and was on his way. Before he could fully make his leave Sinbad noticed a letter addressed to the man in question. "Ja'far", oh and he assumed Sinbad was an alias. I mean it is but- Sinbad might end up keeping it. It sounds cool. But this is just getting off topic, Sinbad tells himself to add "Ja'far to the list of people he doesn't want to bump into again.


End file.
